Halloween is my favorite holiday. I love getting dressed up and scaring small children. I’ve always had a wonderful time at Halloween. From the early years of begging for “treats”, then the teenage years of pulling the “tricks” it’s never failed to make for a memorable event.

My most momentous Halloweens were always spent with my friend, Amanda. One year we spent the majority of the evening trying to find a boy who was a year our junior because he hit me in the back with an egg. We never did find him, however, I was fully prepared to torture him in ways that would make serial killers cringe. I still vividly remember the stinging pain of the egg hitting me in the small of my back. It was a surprisingly biting kind of hurt. Who knew eggs packed such a punch?

Around four years later, a few offensive costumes, and several dozen eggs, Amanda and I went to a Crazed Hillbilly-themed Haunted Forest with our college beaus. Mine sold me to the cast of Deliverance for a bushel of taters, two gallons of moonshine and a couple goats. In my defense, he did negotiate for some time, and from what I understand it wasn’t a bad deal. Afterwards, I was chased by another hillbilly with a chainsaw. I think I was supposed to be his young bride. Could’ve done worse…

In recent years, since I’ve become a mother that is, I dress up and humiliate my teenage son. Every year he has a giant Halloween throwdown, and I dress up. Always zombie themed. Miss Kentucky 1956 (zombie), Joan Jett (zombie), Cheerleader (zombie), you get the idea. He acts like he’s appalled, but I’m pretty sure he secretly thinks I’m the coolest. At least I’m going to assume that.